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Trolled Page 12

by Bruce Coville


  “Does it have a name?” I asked. “Maybe the cauldron can take us to it.”

  “It’s called the King’s Door. It would be a safe place to enter…as long as my father is not using it right now.”

  I nodded, grasped the cauldron’s rim, and said, “Take us to the King’s Door!”

  The cauldron made a right turn, circled halfway around the mountain, then slid gracefully down onto a wide ledge that opened onto a cave.

  I swallowed.

  Hard.

  It was time to enter Troll Mountain.

  Nettie, afterward (continued)

  Cody removed the key from the cauldron. Instantly the cauldron began to shrink, crowding us together.

  “Put the key back!” I whispered urgently. “PUT IT BACK BEFORE IT CUTS US IN HALF!”

  He tried to do so but dropped it!

  “I’ll get it!” cried Angus, leaping from Cody’s shoulder to the ground. He tossed the key back up, and Cody managed to catch it. But by the time he jammed it back into the cauldron, the thing had grown so small we were nearly trapped. Askeladden, caught in the bottom of the cauldron and standing on top of my feet, was yowling bitter complaints.

  With some effort, Cody managed to wriggle himself out. Once he had done so, I was able to step out, too. As soon as I was out of the way, Askeladden leaped up to the edge.

  “Do not ever, ever do that to me again!” he hissed furiously.

  “Sorry,” said Cody. “I’m still learning!”

  He leaned into the cauldron to get his duffel. After he retrieved it, he removed the key again. In only moments the cauldron shrank to its normal size. Cody picked it up and put it into the bag.

  Then we all looked at the entrance to the mountain.

  “What’s that smell?” asked Cody, making a face.

  “Home,” I said, feeling an unexpected burst of happiness.

  “No offense,” Cody replied, “but it smells like rotten eggs.”

  “Yes, that comes from the lava.”

  “Lava?” Cody yelped.

  I looked at him in surprise. “Didn’t I tell you? Troll Mountain is a volcano.”

  From A Troddler’s Guide to Life

  Our comfort here in Troll Mountain is largely due to the wisdom of our elders, who long ago took steps to care for us all. The reason we are snug and warm in our caves and caverns and tunnels is simple: Troll Mountain was once a volcano, and at the heart of the mountain there is still a bubbling pit of lava.

  Wise are the elders who saw how this could help us. With the aid of our cousins the tonttus (who, being small, were more suited for this), we dug passageways that carry the heat of the lava to all the corners of Troll Mountain.

  Tonight when you go to sleep in your stony troll bed, remember to thank the elders, without whom your sleep would be cold and uncomfortable! Sleep well, little troddler, sleep well.

  (Author unknown)

  Nettie, afterward (continued)

  “We’re going into a volcano?” cried Cody, staring at the entryway in horror.

  “You don’t need to worry,” I told him. “The lava is way down at the bottom of the mountain. It’s what keeps us warm.”

  “Oh, I see,” he muttered. “Sure. Makes perfect sense.”

  But he didn’t move.

  “Shall we go in?” Angus asked, after another minute or so.

  “Not yet,” I whispered. Cody wasn’t the only one who was hesitant. I was confused by the mix of emotions cascading through me. This was home, the home I had left more than a hundred and fifty years earlier.

  The home where I had been treated so badly, but home nonetheless.

  Inside the mountain were my mother, who had been so cruel to me, and my father, who had been crueler still.

  And yet they were still my mother and my father.

  Why did I care what they thought of me, what they would think when and if they saw me?

  Why, being terrified of them, did I at the same time long to see them?

  And what of the prince I had come to rescue? Could I do it?

  And if I did, what would it mean? Would he simply flee from me once more?

  Why not? I am a troll, after all, and he is human. But somehow he had my heart, even after all those years. He was beautiful, that is true. But it was not his beauty that had caught and held me. It was his kindness, the only true kindness I had ever known at that time in my life.

  I realized that was why I would do anything to rescue him. His kindness had left its mark on me.

  Cody’s Life Log

  10/30 (continued)

  It was cold on that ledge, and I was starting to shiver. I wanted to get inside the mountain where it was supposed to be warm. (Smelly, but warm.) But I was also afraid of entering that tunnel, which would mean we were officially in the world of the trolls.

  As I stared at the dark opening, a bird shrieked overhead.

  A moment later Korkaya landed on my shoulder.

  “I’ve been wondering if you would show up!” the raven said. “I’m glad I spotted you before you went in! Exactly how were you planning to find your grandfather, Cody?”

  “Um…by searching?”

  The bird whapped me with his wing. “Pigeons on toast, boy! Do you have any idea how long that would take? You could wander those tunnels for years looking for that hidden prison. I will lead you there.”

  “How do you know your way around?” I asked.

  “I was raised inside the mountain, just like all the messenger ravens.”

  That was a relief. But it also made me realize something I’d been trying not to think about, which was that Nettie and I had different missions and would probably have to separate to carry them out. Having an enormous troll at my side had given me a sense of safety that I was soon going to lose.

  I turned toward Nettie. She was sitting on a nearby boulder, pulling off her boots. Before I could speak, she said, “We will be parting soon, Cody. You must seek your grandfather, who has done me a great service by alerting me to the danger to the prince. I must go…” She stopped and swallowed hard, then said, “I must go to face my mother.”

  It was hard to imagine Nettie Thump being afraid of anyone. But knowing how my own mother can be when I cross her, I totally understood. I don’t mean that Mom ever whacks me or anything.

  It’s that thing she does with the Mom Look.

  I could hardly imagine what a Mom Look would be like when it was delivered by a troll…especially one as fierce as Hekthema!

  Nettie, afterward (continued)

  When we entered the mountain, I was surprised to find a tonttu standing guard.

  “Who goes there?” the small person demanded.

  “I am Nettie Thump, daughter of Queen Hekthema, returned from long exile,” I replied. “Who are you, and why are you on watch here?”

  The tonttu looked at me in amazement, then dropped to one knee and cried, “It IS you! Welcome home, Princess Nettie!”

  This startled me beyond measure. “Am I truly welcome?” I asked. Then I added, “Also, please rise.”

  The tonttu stood and said, “I cannot speak for your mother or your father, but I can say for the tonttus that you are most welcome indeed. Things have grown dire here in the mountain. Your father becomes more harsh with every passing year. There is great discontent, not only among us tonttus but among the greater trolls as well. We have longed for you to return, for you were always good to us.”

  These words both stoked my fear and warmed my heart. Though I was glad the tonttus remembered me so fondly, I felt greater concern than ever about my defiance in returning. Living among humans, I had learned that their anger usually faded in time. But my father was no human. Had his wrath at my misdeed actually increased over the years?

  “What can you tell me of Prince Gustav Fredrik?” I asked.

  A look of terror crossed the tonttu’s face. “Please do not speak of him. I would be risking my life to answer!”

  I knelt before him and whispered, “If yo
u have remembrance of any good I may have done you or your kin, please tell me.”

  Trembling, the tonttu said, “The glass coffin is hidden deep away—I know not where. The king seeks it daily, and daily when it is not found, his wrath increases. Your mother knows but will not tell, and the king dares not enrage her, for she is as fierce as he is.”

  This shocked me. Mother was never as strong as Father when I knew her.

  “If you would find the prince, first find your mother,” said the tonttu.

  I resisted the urge to throttle him. It would have done no good and ruined my reputation among the little people.

  “Will you let us pass?” I asked.

  “Will the cat vouch for the human?”

  “Certainly,” said Askeladden. “Otherwise I would not bring him to your mountain. He is part troll. You can test him, if you want.”

  “No, no,” said the tonttu. “If a cat such as you claims he is all right, I will not question you. And the very small person, what is he?”

  “I am a brownie, as you ought to know,” said Angus. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

  The tonttu scowled, but I quickly said, “Angus is clearly of the Enchanted Realm and cannot be denied entrance. Now please stand aside.”

  “No,” said the tonttu, surprising me. “Not yet.” He went to the wall, where he took a gray cloak from an iron peg pounded into the stone. “The boy should take this,” he said. “The cat and the raven will raise no suspicions, and the brownie is clearly of the Realm. But you cannot simply have a human boy walking around the mountain, even if he is, as the cat claims, part troll.”

  He handed the cloak to Cody. “We tonttus use these when we do not want to be seen by passing trolls. Huddle on the floor and pull this over yourself, and you will seem as no more than a boulder to anyone passing by.”

  Both Cody and I thanked the tonttu profusely.

  “It is the least I can do to aid you on your path, Princess Nettie,” he replied.

  Then he stood aside and we walked past him into the darkness.

  As we did, I began to sing.

  Cody’s Life Log

  10/30 (continued)

  Even though I speak Finnish, I had no idea what the words to Nettie’s song were. All I knew was that after a few seconds the walls ahead of us began to glow. Well, not the walls themselves. As in her cave under Grand Central, what glowed were certain stones embedded in the walls and ceiling. As they woke to her voice, they began to shine in a variety of colors. We soon went from complete darkness to a clearly lit path into the mountain.

  As Nettie continued to sing, I realized that the light only extended about ten feet ahead of us. I looked behind and saw that once we had passed an area, it went dark again. It was as if we were traveling in a capsule of light that moved as we did.

  We came to a place where the tunnel forked, and Nettie stopped. As the stones dimmed around us, she pointed to the right and said, “I must go this way.”

  “But Cody’s grandfather is held in this direction,” said Korkaya. He was sitting on my left shoulder and extended his wing to indicate the left fork.

  “Then it is time for us to separate,” Nettie replied, and I was touched by the sorrow I heard in her voice. “I will go on alone from this point. I must trust Angus, Askeladden, and Korkaya to serve you as faithful guardians, Cody.”

  “You can count on that, lass,” said Angus, who was, as usual, riding on my right shoulder…which kind of balanced having Korkaya on my left.

  To my surprise, Nettie next said, “I have a gift for you, Cody.” She fished from her pocket a stone about the size of a softball. “I brought this from my home under Grand Central to light your way. Simply sing,

  My friend Nettie bids you wake,

  And light my travel for her sake

  and it will glow for you. You will not get as much light as when I sing the tunnels into life, but it should be enough to travel by, especially now that your night vision is so improved.” She paused, then added, “I know you brought a flashlight, but I think it better to use this. It will attract less attention.”

  I felt a lump in my throat. “Thank you,” I murmured, accepting the stone.

  Nettie put her enormous hands on my shoulders and said, “Cody, I do not know what will happen next, either with your quest or with mine. But I do know that you have made it possible for me to follow my heart and try to make things right after all that has gone wrong. I thank you for this, and give you good wishes for finding your grandfather. If you do, then use the cauldron to take him to safety.”

  “But how will we know what happens to you?” I asked.

  “It is possible you will never know. You should leave the mountain as soon as possible.”

  “But don’t you want us to use the cauldron to take you home?”

  She drew a heavy breath, then said, “I no longer know what I want.”

  With that she stood, began to sing, and headed down the right-hand path.

  I watched her go until the walls grew dim around us and Korkaya said, “Shall we continue?”

  Lifting the stone Nettie had given me, I chanted the proper words.

  Soon the stone began to glow.

  With Angus on one shoulder, Korkaya on the other, and Askeladden walking before me, I entered the dark tunnel I hoped would lead to my grandfather.

  From A Brief History of Troll Mountain

  More years ago than memory can count, our troll-tribe claimed this mountain and made it our own. As the Age of Man crept on, driving the Enchanted into ever greater retreat, Troll Mountain remained our refuge and our haven.

  But how long it will last, we cannot say.

  The reason for this uncertainty is that carved into a tunnel wall near the heart of the mountain, where a gap in the rock lets us look down upon the liquid stone that bubbles and pops as it warms our underground world, is a most disturbing poem.

  For one thing, it lacks the required fart of proper troll poetry.

  But that is a minor issue compared to the prediction of a time when doom might come upon us.

  No one knows where this verse came from, who wrote it, or who carved it. Some think it is a joke. But though many have tried, not even our greatest stone carvers have been able to add a single letter, or gouge one away. The prophecy remains untouchable.

  Some believe that the great wizard Väinämöinen carved it, after he had guided us here both to provide us safe haven and to separate us from the humans.

  I do not know if that is true.

  Mostly we try to continue with our lives, and not think about the prophecy too much.

  But that has become more difficult in recent years….

  By Aspen Markonnis, Tonttu

  Scribe of Troll Mountain

  Deep in the heart of our world is pure fire,

  Source of our warmth and all that we de-sire.

  Long as it lasts will our world be se-cure,

  King must stay true for our world to en-dure.

  If king grows false and the stone starts to rise,

  Un-derground home will soon face its de-mise.

  Hark, all ye trolls! Let not king crush your breath.

  If that day comes, then your warmth brings your death!

  Sweet be the scent that will warn doom is near,

  Rose on the rise is the smell you should fear!

  —Author unknown

  Nettie, afterward (continued)

  I knew the way to my mother’s cave, of course. It was where I had been raised, when I was not in the troddler nursery.

  It was not a place of happy memories, and I was filled with dread at the thought of seeing Mother after all these years. Could I face her without crumbling? She had held such power over me once. But that was long ago. And now I had my rage to help me…rage at what she had done to me, and to Gustav Fredrik.

  Yet there was also the fact that if she had simply left him alone, not caught him in this enchanted sleep, Gustav Fredrik would be long dead already, gone to
dust as happens so soon with humans.

  As I traveled, I passed tonttus scurrying about on errands. Some looked at me oddly because of the modern clothing I wore, but then diverted their gaze and hurried on. They seemed fearful and defeated, not like the lively creatures I had known when I lived here before. I had a dreary sense that in this behavior I was seeing the heavy hand of my father.

  Trolls were also making their way through the tunnels, of course. I moved fast when I saw them, acting as if I was on important business…as, indeed, I was. But I would also avert my face, not wanting to be recognized.

  I wondered if that was really necessary. How many would still know me after all this time? The tonttu guard had, but only after I had identified myself. No one was expecting me to show up here.

  Because Mother and Father make their homes close to the heart of the mountain, more than once my path took me past the openings in the tunnel walls that look down into the bubbling lava pit that is our underground sun, source of our warmth and survival. As always, it was red as the reddest rose. And, as always, its odor was harsh and acrid. Yet it was the odor of home, and so struck something deep within me.

  Then, finally, I was standing outside my mother’s cave. It was large and magnificent, as suited the consort of the king.

  I took a deep breath, and then another.

  And then another.

  Gathering all my courage, which felt tiny compared to what I was about to face, I stepped into the cave and said, “Mother, I need to speak to you!”

  From the Notebooks of Raimo Takala

  Those of us observing the troll world continue to be fascinated (and puzzled) by the changes we see occurring there.

 

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